


Outloud

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-18
Updated: 2008-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Donna's in a car accident. Josh implodes.





	Outloud

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: This later becomes a series called The Substance of Things Hoped For, but it started out as a stand alone and can, well, stand alone.  


* * *

AMY’S POV 

We’re walking along the street about a block from Josh’s apartment. We just finished a late dinner at the Hawk and Dove, and we’ve been silent for a while. I’ve been trying to figure out the reason for the silence for a while now. We didn’t fight. We didn’t disagree. We didn’t anything. It’s not even the comfortable silence that begins to take form in a relationship that...well, really, in one that’s as old as ours, come to think of it. We’ve been together for seven months now. Don’t you think we’d be able to comfortably share silence? But this feels like two people who are desperately trying to think of something to talk about. 

“Josh, what are you going to do after the election?” I ask. 

“Work in the White House, I hope.” he replies. 

“What if you don’t win though?” 

He was holding my hand, but now he drops it. He stops walking and looks at me. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean that.” I shrug. “If the President doesn’t keep the White House, what do you think you’ll do?” He brings his arms over his head and locks his hands on the back of his head and shrugs. “Do you think you’ll stay in Washington?” I prod. I’m not sure what I’m looking for here. This has been one of my longer relationships, and I suppose I’m wondering how much longer it’s going to go. 

“I have no idea what we’re going to do.” he says. 

“Who’s we?” 

“Any of us.” he replies, but I don’t think that’s what he meant, and I certainly don’t think he meant he and I ‘we.’ 

I take a look at him now. It seems strange to me to see him dressed casually, in a t-shirt and jeans. I hardly ever see him like this. He’s either in a suit or naked. I like him in jeans though. He’s got a nice ass and these are well worn jeans. 

After seven months, we should be closer than this. We have a lot fun together, we have a lot of sex, we spar a lot. Politics always sneaks it’s way into our conversations. One of us usually tries to drop it when it starts hitting too close to home. Usually it works; sometimes it doesn’t. It’s impossible for it not to. Politics consumes us both, he’s the Deputy Chief of Staff for the White House, I’m a lobbyist. It’s who we are 24 hours a day. Together and apart. 

Lately, I’ve been wondering if I love him. I guess I don’t if I have to actually ask myself, but I think I could. I think if we keep on this course, I will. I do care about him. I know he cares about me, or according to Sam, he’s ensorcelled. But I also know he holds back. I haven’t really been able to figure out why that is. I don’t know much about Josh’s past, or his childhood, or his family. He’s not really a sharer like that. I don’t think he’s screwing around with someone else. He’s hit and run, but he’s not a player. He’s got more respect for me than that. I know I was a challenge for him and played hard to get, but I’m not just another notch in the bedpost. 

Something keeps him from being fully committed to this relationship...something or someone. He’s made no bones about it, the President comes first. He proved that with our non-trip to Tahiti. But I’m not sure that’s it either. 

I decide to test the waters. 

“Josh, don’t you think there should only be two people in a relationship?” I ask. 

He looks confused. God bless him, he genuinely looks confused. He drops his hands down to his waist and he’s squinting his eyes at me. He has absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. 

Before he can answer a car screeches to a stop on the street next to us, immediately drawing our attention. It’s CJ, Toby, and Sam. CJ’s driving. She’s got a `65 Mustang. It’s freaking gorgeous. The top’s actually down. Sam hops out and runs to the sidewalk where we’re standing. 

“Thank God we found you.” he says to Josh. “You have to come with us. Donna, Carol, and Ginger were in a car accident. They’re at GW. Apparently, it was a pretty bad one.” He tugs on Josh’s arm and the three of us squeeze in the back seat. 

I have absolutely no idea what compelled me to get in the car. I don’t know Ginger and Carol, and Donna I don’t know that well. I mean, I’ve been around her a few times, but it’s always been in a larger group, and she and I have never really chatted on our own. 

Josh is firing off a thousand questions and no one has any answers as CJ flies through the streets of DC. Josh keeps telling her to drive faster. I couldn’t even imagine what it would look like in the paper tomorrow if we got pulled over and it was discovered that the entire senior staff was in a car traveling like it was in a high speed chase. 

Josh pulls out his cell phone. I see him hit one and send on his phone, and I see ‘Donna cell’ scroll on the screen before he puts it to his ear. Huh. Donna’s number one on the speed dial. He’s number one on my speed dial. I have a feeling CJ’s number two. He always says CJ’s his first phone call, but apparently she’s really his second. I’m thinking Leo, Sam, and Toby come next, not necessarily in that order, then probably his mother. That makes me at least number seven. Huh. Nearly eight months of dating, and I’m number seven on the speed dial, and he’s number one on mine. Of course, he does order Chinese a lot. Maybe they’re number seven. I have to tell you, I have an assistant. I like her enough. We joke around at work. She’s a hard worker. Her number isn’t even saved in my cell contacts, much less in my top ten. 

“God dammit!” he swears snapping his phone shut. “It’s her fucking voice mail.” 

We pull up to the emergency room of GW and everyone hops out of the car. I briefly notice, as I grab Josh’s hand, that we’re parked in the ambulance bay. Oh sure, an ambulance could get in, but not two. That was awfully bold of the CJ. Must be nice to work for the White House...or maybe we’ll get an actual ticket. 

We blow through the doors and the nurses don’t look surprised to see us. We move right up to the desk and I immediately see why they aren’t surprised. Abbey Bartlet appears from the other side. “Josh.” she says immediately. “Come on, she’s in radiology.” Josh doesn’t even glance at me as he leaves my side and disappears with the First Lady. Toby, Sam, and CJ are looking for information on Ginger and Carol. They definitely seem concerned for their assistants, but Josh seems something else all together. I mean, Abbey didn’t single anybody else out. 

The other three senior staff members nod when the nurse says she’ll have a doctor come speak to them. They’re not frantic; they’re perfectly accepting of hospital policy. Only Josh seems to have circumvented it. The First Lady snatched him away and brought him to radiology, where I would assume Donna is. Why didn’t she just tell him, hey, Donna’s up getting x-rays and she’ll be back in a bit? Why did he actually have to go? 

A nurse brings us to a private waiting room. CJ, Sam, and Toby all looked freaked out at waiting in here. They seem to all move to specific spots, and it occurs to me that this is probably where they waited the night of the shooting. A doctor comes in and explains the current status of the patients. Ginger was driving, Carol was in the back seat behind Ginger, Donna was in the front in the passenger seat. The collision was a direct hit on Donna’s side. Ginger and Carol are banged up a bit, but it doesn’t sound too bad. It sounds like Donna was a whole different story. A broken right leg, a serious laceration to her head where the glass came down, a broken collar bone, and possible internal bleeding. She’s being checked for the bleeding now. Things are touch and go until the results are back, which will be shortly. She’s being brought back down now, and I assume Josh is with her. 

The doctor leaves and everyone exchanges looks. Well, three of us are exchanging knowing looks, and I’m definitely not one of those three. There’s certainly a vibe happening now. 

“Touch and go sounds...bad.” Sam says. 

“He can’t lose her.” CJ says quietly. “He just can’t, it’ll destroy him.” 

“CJ.” Toby says in his normal hard to read voice. When she makes eye contact with him, he glances in my direction. It’s becoming clear who the third person in the relationship is, and why the rumors about Josh dating Donna probably started in the first place. 

“It’s all right.” I say. “They work together; I’m not surprised he’d be upset.” Yeah, I don’t really believe that either. 

“Sorry, Amy.” Sam apologizes. “It’s just...they’re close.” 

“Yeah.” I nod. The door opens and Josh enters. Wow. He looks like shit. CJ moves right for him, and they embrace, and stay there. They’ve gone way past the allotted time for the comforting friend hug, and now I’m left wondering just how close Josh and Donna really are. Josh is facing me in the hug, and though he’s got his eyes closed, I can tell he’s been crying. CJ whispered something to him I didn’t hear and he smiles slightly and nods. When they break apart, Toby and Sam stand up. 

“What’s going on?” Sam asks. 

“They just brought her back down.” Josh says wiping his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

“Do they have the results of the tests yet?” Sam asks. Josh finally meets my eyes and holds my gaze for a long moment. For the life of me, I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I’ve never seen him look at me that intensely. A whole thing went on in his head there, I could see it. 

“No.” he says quietly. 

“She’ll be fine, Josh.” Toby says. “She’s tough.” 

“Yeah.” he says breaking my gaze. 

“Is she conscious?” I ask. All eyes in the room move to me. Yeah. Remember me, guys? I’m here, too. 

“No.” he says flatly. He looks back to CJ. “I’m going to go back there. Abbey’s going back to the White House.” 

“What was she doing here?” CJ asks him. 

“I have no idea.” he shrugs walking to the door and speaking over his shoulder. “I want to be there when Donna wakes up though.” 

He disappears and I’m left with the other three. It’s a little awkward. My boyfriend just blatantly went to another woman’s bedside. I don’t care how close they are, unless it’s the man’s mother, that just doesn’t seem right. 

“Okay.” Toby says finally. “Let’s just check on Carol and Ginger and then head back. Amy, can we give you a ride?” 

“Yeah.” I say. I mean, really, what am I going to do? Wait for Josh to wait for Donna to wake up? This makes sense? “I’m just going to see if he needs anything.” Toby nods, Sam shrugs and CJ’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. I know that look. It’s the don’t do it, sister, there’s nothing back there but pain. She doesn’t say anything though. Of course not. Her loyalty isn’t to me. It’s to Josh. Nobody hugs a man in front of his girlfriend for that long. It seems that Josh isn’t only close with Donna. 

I head out of the room and start wandering around the ER looking for the exam room Donna’s in, a nurse finally points it out for me. I push the curtain aside and am greeted by a heartbreaking scene. It would be heartbreaking to anyone, quite frankly, but it’s more so to me, since it’s my boyfriend. Or possibly was my boyfriend. I’m not really sure he’s mine right now. 

Donna looks a mess. She’s splinted, bandaged, pale and unconscious. He’s sitting next to her on the left side of the bed, her uninjured side and his back is to me. He’s hunched forward with this head resting on her shoulder. 

It’s clear to me now how long this relationship will last. It only can last until this administration is out of office. I’m not the long term; I’m the short term. Close or not, NOBODY is like this with their assistant or best friend. I have a best friend. This is not the way you’d find me at her bedside. There’s perfectly sturdy chairs in this little room. 

“Josh?” I ask softly. He looks up at me and straightens up. I see that he’s holding her hand in his lap. In that one unguarded moment, one where I think he originally thought I was maybe CJ for a second, the pain was apparent. It’s gone now. Sam says he has a terrible poker face, maybe while actually playing poker he does, but this man is very good at hiding things. Very good. I’m now starting to think that I’M the third person in a relationship. I think a different man would have the good sense to look guilty right now. Not Josh. 

“We’re going to head out.” I continue. “Do you need me to bring you anything?” 

He shakes his head and looks down at the hand in his lap. “No.” he chokes out. 

“Do you want me to stay with you?” I really don’t want him to say yes, but he’s my boyfriend, and we’re supposed to care about each other, and he’s hurting right now. 

“No.” he says again, this time softer. He looks up at me now. “I’m sorry.” he says. I’m not really sure what he’s apologizing for. Apologizing because I went from a night of probable sex to waiting in an ER; apologizing for being caught in an intimate moment with another woman, albeit an unconscious one; apologizing because without words, I think he just ended our relationship? 

Voltaire said that “faith is believing when it is beyond reason to believe.” He has faith in her. The only other person I know Josh has faith in is the President, and maybe Leo. Real love, true love is neither physical, nor romantic. It is an acceptance of each other, what is, can be, and has been. There is nothing left for us here. He tried. He really did. But he couldn’t commit to a relationship when he was already committed to another. It’ll be interesting to see where they go from here. They have at least one year left, possibly five. I wonder if they’ll make it. 

 

JOSH’S POV 

Amy just left and I’ve been outed. Well, outed to her anyway. CJ saw this last year. She’s never out and out called me on it, well, she did just before, but before tonight, she just gave me her look. You know the one. The don’t-do-something-so-stupid-it-ends-up-in-my-press-room-look. She figured me and Donna out after the shooting. Yeah, we were pretty transparent then. I mean, Donna was like a Nazi. Toby called her the sphincter police. I tried to get her to tone it down, but was ridiculously unsuccessful. I think the only way I would have been successful was if I actually said, “Donna, cut it out or everyone will know you’re in love with me.” We can’t say things like that. We can’t ever say them out loud. At least not right now. We can’t be together. We can love each other, but we can’t be together. 

I’ll be honest with you. I thought we were going to love each other and not have sex with other people. Apparently that wasn’t the case. Ainsley set her up with Cliff Calley. Ainsley’s sweet. I swear I like her, even though she’s a republican, but with that move, it took weeks for Sam to convince me that she wasn’t trying to undo us from within. So when I saw Amy again, I just thought, I don’t know, if she’s going to do it, why can’t I? Problem is, I started to like spending time with Amy. She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s a player in the party. I mean, what wasn’t to like? She was a friend...a friend with benefits. Was I ever going to marry Amy? No. Never. But I’m a man, for crying out loud, and if the woman I love is going to have sex with another man, and a republican, to boot, then so am I. Though I picked a democrat. I mean, even I draw the line somewhere. I needed something to numb the pain there. The last time I decided to use conventional methods of numbing the pain, I put my hand through a window and Donna freaked. 

Donna cracks me up. She really does. When I say she’s the light o f my life, I mean it. She’s the funniest person I know; she’s the sweetest person I know; and she’s the most compassionate person I know. She’s got such a big influence over me that I deluded myself into thinking everyone from Wisconsin was like her. Let me just say, that was bad. I had a meeting a few months ago with a senator from Wisconsin. I went into the meeting thinking things were going to go my way because he was from Wisconsin and people from Wisconsin were like Donna. Nooo, no, no, no. That guy was an asshole. 

I haven’t gotten any better with handling stress. At least not emotional stress. So, you understand how something like this can send me out into the stratosphere. She can’t be pulling shit like this now. I can’t love her the way she needs to be loved right now. And I want to. I really, really want to. I want to pull her broken body into my arms and make it all right. Don’t get me wrong. I’m hugging the shit out of her once I can do it without hurting her. 

See, Mrs. Bartlet and CJ said the same thing to me. “Take care of her.” Well, CJ said, “YOU’LL take care of her,” but it was the same message. That’s the unofficial wink-wink, nod-nod. The unofficial go ahead not to propel myself across the line, but to tip toe across it just a little bit. She did it with me, now I’m going to do it with her. 

I just need her to wake up. I mean, what the hell already? I’m not a patient man. Well, she waited for me for 14 hours of surgery and 3 hours in post-op. I suppose I could give her a little more time here. I’ve only been here about an hour now. 

I think I should have been a little more fair to Amy. When she asked me if I was dating my assistant, I should have elaborated there a little bit. I probably should have said, “no, I’m not dating my assistant, but I am, however, in love with her.” But you can’t say that to people in this town. They don’t get it. You know, I’m not sure anyone in any sort of professional arena would get that. I can’t put that information out there. People will use Donna to get to me. Some already do. One senator’s aid actually took her to dinner twice before trying to casually mention that they should double date with me and whoever I was seeing. It was a senator who was looking for support on a bill he was sponsoring. Let’s just say he didn’t get it. And what happened to the pursuer of Donna? I don’t think he’s had many dates lately since a rumor about an unfortunate rash he had went around. Let the word ring forth, stay the hell away from my girl. 

Every now and then we review why we’re a bad idea. Correction: not why WE’RE a bad idea, why we’re a PR nightmare. I’ve considered trying to convince her to transfer. She mentioned while I was recovering that I’d fall apart without her, and I’m doing something important and I can’t do it without her. She’s got a twisted sense of logic, she really does. And I fall for it sometimes, too. Like with this. She’s made her career being devoted to my career and that should be bad. It should be dysfunctional. I guess it is. But she figures if I’m working 18 hour days, what’s the point to her working anywhere else, we’d never see each other anyway. Is sex with each other a couple of times of week, if we’re lucky, really worth the amount of time we spend together now? See, the thing is, I kind of think it is. But she’s got her Donna logic, and she doesn’t think we’re ready. 

Maybe we weren’t before. But I’m sitting on her bed, clutching her hand to my chest, willing her eyes to open and her body to heal, not caring that I did it in front of my girlfriend, and the First Lady of the United States. If that’s not a sign of being ready, then I don’t really know what else is. She’s not going to see it that way. She’s going to be pissed off that I outed us to the others. Of course, she’ll have to admit to what I outed, and that’s really breaking cardinal rule number one. Because while we know, like I said, we haven’t said it out loud. 

Are you even following me anymore? 

She shifts in the bed, and I snap my eyes up to her face. “Donna.” I say quietly, running a finger down her cheek. She winces, but I don’t think from me. The point is, she’s responding. “Donna, open your eyes. It’s okay.” I continue to coax her for another minute as I watch her swim towards the surface. Her eyes finally flutter open and I let out a long breath. 

“What happened?” she whispers. 

“Car accident.” 

“Carol and Ginger?” 

“They’re okay. You took the brunt of it.” 

“Good.” 

“Not from where I’m sitting.” 

“You’re saying you wish this on one of them?” 

“I’m saying I don’t wish it for you.” 

“Weren’t you out with Amy?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Where is she?” 

“I don’t know.” She’s going to ask about Amy now? This is her first priority? 

“Why does my body hurt so much?” 

“You broke, like, everything.” I reply. 

“Everything?” 

“Your leg and your collarbone.” 

“That’s not everything.” 

“Technically, no.” 

“Feels like it.” 

“I’m sure it does.” I say softly and brush some hair off the bandage on her forehead. 

“Sorry I ruined your night.” 

“Knock it off.” 

“No. You were on a date.” 

“Not anymore.” 

“You want to go back to it?” 

“That head injury is affecting your thinking.” 

“Josh.” 

“Donna.” 

“You should go back to her.” 

“I’m where I want to be.” 

“Why?” 

“You know why.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m not saying it out loud.” 

“So, we’re back to this then?” she asks. 

“Yes. And I’m making up new rules, too. I let you call the shots and you fucked everything up.” I announce indignantly. 

“Is that a fact?” 

“It is.” 

“You’re making up rules?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m being punished.” 

“No. I’m taking over.” 

“I am being punished. You’re taking advantage of my weakened condition.” 

“Yes. I am. I’m a politician. It’s my job to exploit people’s weaknesses.” 

She smiles at me, and then winces a bit. I think it hurts her head to smile. I smile back. I lean down and gently kiss her forehead, then continue brushing aside her hair. 

“What’s the first rule?” 

“Um...I don’t know if it’s really a rule. As soon as I can spring you, you’re going to stay at my place for a while.” 

“What? Why?” she demands. Well, I would have thought that would have gone over a little better. 

“Because your roommate has those cats and they’ll jump on you and hurt you.” I say. “And it’s my turn to take care of you. I have a bigger bed, my place is closer to the White House, and in a safer neighborhood anyway.” 

“Is it closer to the unemployment office?” she counters. “We’ll be spending a lot of time there.” 

“No we won’t.” 

“Yeah, we will.” 

“We didn’t the first time.” 

“They won’t be happy with a repeat performance.” 

“You could at least humor me here, Donna.” I snap. “I got the shit scared out of me tonight. They told me you were touch and go. I thought you were going to die and I wasn’t going to get to say it out loud.” 

“Are you saying it out loud now?” 

“I’m saying out loud that I want to be able to say it out loud.” 

“Okay. I need a moment to catch up.” she says. 

“Amy and I are done.” I say. “At least, I’m pretty sure. This was a bit of a wake up call for everyone. One of the rules I’m proposing is we don’t see anybody.” 

“We can’t date each other, and you don’t want us to date anybody else?” 

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I nod my head vigorously anyway. 

“This makes sense to you?” 

“No. But I’m saying it anyway.” 

“This is your fear talking, Josh.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m a woman with needs. You’re telling me you want me to agree to not have sex for one to five years?” She asks. “The years, I might add, where I’m supposed to be entering my sexual prime?” 

“Maybe you can not put it that way.” 

“I’m putting it into perspective.” she counters. “Maybe we can have a secret affair.” 

I consider that for a second. God help me, I actually consider it. “Secrets in this administration don’t tend to stay that way.” 

“Shit.” she frowns. 

“What?” 

“Your rare valid point.” I smile as she throws my words back at me. “You think we’ll get fired?” 

“No. I think we’ll get separated.” 

“You want to maintain the status quo.” 

“I don’t want to, no.” I don’t want to. I want to kiss her and tell her I love her. Out loud. I want to marry her and have children with her. I don’t want to work in the White House anymore. 

Except I do. I’ve always wanted to work in the White House. 

“I’m sorry I failed you.” I say softly. Her eyes snap up to mine. Whatever she was expecting me to say, it wasn’t that. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I should have figured this out.” I explain. “I should have figured out a way for us.” 

“You did. This is it.” 

“This isn’t good enough.” 

“It’ll have to be.” she smiles. “I’ll wait for you. I won’t fall in love with anyone else.” 

“Are you saying it out loud?” 

“I’m saying out loud that I want to say it out loud.” she smiles. 

Something you may not know about Donnatella...her smile can light the room on fire. I can certainly feel it in my chest that’s for sure. That smile’s just for me. I mean, she smiles for other people, too, but this smile is radiating. This smile gets me to do anything she wants. And what the smile won’t get me to do, the tears will. Since the day she’s met me, she’s played me like a Maestro, expertly guiding me where I need to be. She’s never too far away. My heart breaks in two as I see the love I have for her reflecting in her eyes. Pseudo-declarations were made tonight, and I’m now counting down the minutes until I can say the real thing out loud. 

THE END


End file.
